


Peace at Last

by TheLightFury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 00:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17929280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLightFury/pseuds/TheLightFury
Summary: Draco Malfoy was curled around his pillow, clutching it so tightly that his knuckles, usually pale anyway, almost shone white in the darkness. Harry’s gut twisted.- Draco has a nightmare and Harry has to decide how he is going to help him, if at all.





	Peace at Last

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my amazing beta Hermione18802!!! She's so encouraging and keeps me smiling all the way through!!!
> 
> Basically I just felt bad about the last angsty piece I wrote so had to throw some comfort in there!

It was late when Harry entered the dorm. The cool of the autumn evening had called him outside and soothed his frazzled mind, after a day of difficult lessons preparing for NEWTs. The sweet, light wind had gently nipped at his face, enticing him to fly over the Quidditch pitch. For hours, he’d raced the sun as it edged to kiss the golden grounds, the pressures of Eighth Year melting away with the final bleeds of sunlight. Even after darkness had settled across the ground, Harry remained by the Black Lake, listening to the frolicking of the merpeople, until he was physically numb from cold all over.

 

As he set his broom down quietly, he began to exchange his sweat stained robes for his latest oversized jumper from Mrs Weasley. The softness enveloped him like one of Molly’s famous hugs; he smiled to himself, relishing the feeling. He was just stepping into his snitch covered bottoms when a soft noise met his ears. It sounded like an animal’s cry, quiet, but pained against the gentle sounds of the rest of the dorm sleeping.

 

Harry waited, one naked leg balancing in the air.

 

No further sound came.

 

Shaking it off, Harry quickly slid the pyjamas on and was just about to crawl into bed when he heard it again; a keening, low, distressed sound that, for some reason, felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

 

The sound of his pulse amplified in Harry’s ears as he stood, half in, half out of his bed. A few seconds later, the sound of soft snores from his dorm-mates was punctuated with another moan, a little more urgent this time. Harry found his wand in his hand on instinct as he turned towards the sound. As his eyes fell on the bed on the far side of the room, Harry felt his stomach clench.

 

_ ‘Please not him. Anyone but him.’ _

 

Another whine interrupted the peaceful ambience of the dorm, and the curtains surrounding the bed fluttered slightly, confirming the origin of the disturbance.

 

Harry sighed, picking his way carefully across the room. Casting a silencing charm around the bed, he pulled back the curtains gently, irrationally and futilely, hoping the movement would rouse the occupant alone.

 

Before him, Draco Malfoy was curled around his pillow, clutching it so tightly that his knuckles, usually pale anyway, almost shone white in the darkness. His hair, which normally hung perfectly around his face, was splayed in every direction, thick sweat permeating the strands where they met his forehead. His face, which was also coated in a sheen of perspiration, was contorted with unseen agony, eyebrows drawn down into a tight knit frown, mouth puckered open against the pillow, panting breaths coming through heavily as the whimpers escaped. Every once in a while, Malfoy would twitch, as if trying to shake off the invisible evil that was torturing him.

 

Harry’s gut twisted. Since the beginning of the year, Malfoy had been more withdrawn, more focused on his studies, and had kept to the small band of Slytherins that had returned. Harry had given him his wand back, received a quick thanks, and had no further contact of note with his classmate since. The pair had been civil to each other, but these days Malfoy’s interactions were severely limited as he spent most of his time studying in the library, in lessons, or in the dorm. 

He didn’t eat in the Great Hall or spend time in the common room, even when encouraged by Parkinson or Zabini. It was difficult not to notice that, despite Malfoy’s face wearing his trademark mask of superiority, the young man had gained a haunted air; eyes sunken, face gaunt, shoulder’s continuously hunched. Although he hadn’t actually apologised for his action’s, Harry was finding it more and more difficult to believe that the weight of Malfoy’s guilt wasn’t eating him from the inside out.

 

Another wounded mewl shook Harry from his thoughts. Malfoy’s eyes were screwed tight as his body was wracked with a fresh wave of pain. Harry licked his lips nervously.

 

“Malfoy.” Harry whispered; the young man moaned but otherwise didn’t respond.

 

“Malfoy.” He tried again, slightly louder. The Slytherin merely trembled and panted.

 

Harry sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable as he leaned slightly closer. No time like the present to get punched.

 

Malfoy’s green silk pyjamas were sticky with sweat, and Harry winced as he shook his shoulder gently.

 

“Hey, Malfoy, wake up.” Malfoy’s thin frame rocked easily under Harry’s touch, and he groaned, jerking as though Harry was the one harming him. Still, the blonde did not wake. 

 

Steeling himself Harry shook his shoulder slightly harder, repeating his plea again.

 

As if slapped, Malfoy suddenly reeled back, eyes frantically darting around the room as he gasped for air. Harry tried to retreat in case Malfoy lashed out but he felt a clammy hand around his wrist trapping him. He swallowed.

 

“It’s okay. You’re safe, Malfoy, you were having a nightmare.” He tried to keep his voice calm and comforting, wondering if the silencing charm was the wisest decision after all. Malfoy’s breathing remained harsh; the clammy fingers on his wrist didn’t loosen.

 

“Er- Do you want me to go get someone?” Harry offered, half hoping for an excuse to escape.

 

Immediately Malfoy’s features contorted into fresh panic, breath spiralling out of control; the grip on his wrist intensified to painful levels.

 

“Whoa, okay, I won’t go tell anyone, relax Malfoy!” 

 

The sentence came out in a desperate rush, the pain radiating from his wrist making his tone frantic. As his words registered with Malfoy, however, the tension slowly left the Slytherin’s body, and he readjusted slightly back onto his damp pillow. Silence reigned once more.

 

“You’re safe now. It’s okay.” Harry repeated, not knowing what else to say. Malfoy just stared into the darkness, still trembling against his mattress, looking almost as scared as he had when he woke up. Harry wondered if he really knew the nightmare was over at all.

 

‘ _ Well this isn’t awkward or anything.’  _ Harry thought to himself, still standing by the bed attached to its occupant. Tentatively, he tried to pull his arm away. This time, despite a little resistance, Malfoy’s sticky grip loosened, and his pale hand dropped listlessly onto the bed, his eyes still trained on a spot in the distance.

 

Harry’s stomach shifted uneasily. His bed was calling him, and he now had the chance to get some much-needed sleep. But the young man in front of him looked so fragile, so broken.

 

‘ _ So much like me.’  _ He thought.

 

Taking a steadying breath, Harry took a chance.

 

Malfoy’s eyes, tormented by residual terror, clouded in confusion as Harry, gently but firmly, moved Malfoy towards the middle of the bed. He quickly cast a drying spell on both the bed and Malfoy, before sliding under the covers with him, lying on his back. Malfoy squeaked slightly in surprise, muscles going rigid at the invasion of his personal space.

 

“You don’t look like you want to be alone now, and I’ve had my fair share of nightmares. Trust me… Draco.”

 

Stormy, vulnerable eyes met Harry’s vivid and caring emeralds; after a pause, the Slytherin nodded almost imperceptibly. The blonde settled again against the mattress, still tense.

 

After a few seconds, Harry lifted his arm in invitation to the man beside him. Mal-, no,  _ Draco _ worried his lip between his teeth, but after a brief hesitation, crept closer and gently settled his head on Harry’s chest. Harry hummed softly, trying to reassure the cautious man, as he tenderly wrapped an arm around him, rubbing soothing motions up and down Draco’s back, his arm, his side.

 

The blonde shook under Harry’s hands, curling tighter into his side. The smallest whine escaped his throat. Harry squeezed him closer, ever so slightly.

 

“Shh… I’ve got you. It’ll be alright.” He murmured.

 

Gradually, as he continued his efforts to soothe the Slytherin, Harry felt Draco relax against him. The blonde’s ghostly white hand inched onto Harry’s chest, winding into his jumper.

 

As they lay listening to the sounds of the other’s snoring, Harry felt his stomach settle as a wave of peace spread over him. Against him, he felt Draco sigh slightly, and he couldn’t resist squeezing the Slytherin once more. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr - @april-thelightfury115


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